Deception
by pink.chocolaTe.polikjum
Summary: Harry finds out the truth behind his and Ginny's rekindled relationship... -Rated M.- COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature language._

_ This here is a fic inspired by the word '_deception_' on the _FanFiction . net Writers Unite!_ group on FB. I'm branching out a bit and this start as a Harry/Ginny short (-gasp!- I know!); Probably because I quite like the idea of Ginny being chucked out on her ass for trying to play Harry. Heh._

_Warnings: Non-canon/EWE. MalexMale slash ____(Non-graphic mentions at first)_. Dub-con? Cursing.

_Enjoy! :))_

* * *

Harry lightly stomps his feet as he comes in the front door. He shakes his shoulders, quite like his Labrador cross Max would, making the snow shift off and fall to the hallway carpet in heavy, wet clumps. He banishes the mess before Ginny can see it and say something. (She always has _something_ to say about anything but it didn't do to invoke her wrath needlessly.) He toes off his boots and, avoiding the still damp spots, shuffles down the hallway in his socks.

He pauses in the doorway to their sunny yellow kitchen, cocking his head slightly. "What are you doin'?"

Ginny freezes, her hand tightening on the potion vial in her hand. She slowly turns her head, cursing mentally when she sees Harry standing there. His hair is a little damp from melting snow and his cheeks are still a little pink from the cold. Adorable, really. But instead of being warmed at the sight, she feels panic surge through her, making her skin feel too tight. She curses again; she hadn't heard him come home. _Early_. The insufferable arse.

"What?" she asks, hoping he doesn't see the tiny vial. She subtly curls her fingers around it and lowers her hand, letting it rest by the pitcher on the counter.

"I asked what you were doing," Harry repeats, his eyes starting to narrow ever-so-slightly. He saw the vial and he's starting to feel anger bubble up through his chest. His temples are starting to throb painfully with each thud of his heart beat as it kicked up. There aren't many potions that come in a vibrant, sickly pink; none of them useful outside of enslavement or inducing false feelings. He clenches the hand he has resting on the doorjamb.

Ginny blinks when she hears wood creaking and her eyes drift to where Harry's hand is squeezing the doorjamb. She cringes when a crack forms, splintering out from under Harry's hand about a foot up and down, like a jagged lightning bolt. "Nothing," she tries, her gaze rapidly returning to Harry's face.

She swallows heavily when Harry takes two stiff steps into the kitchen. She knows he wouldn't hit her, Harry isn't that kind of bloke, but she also knows his magic still, occasionally, lashed out wildly when he was experiencing strong emotions. It's one of the few embarrassing things about the man. _Children_ had wild fits of magic... "Harry-"

"What the fuck are you doing with _that_?" Harry asks lowly, his finger jabbing the air angrily to where Ginny's hand is still curled around the potion vial. He doesn't know if she had actually gotten around to pouring it all in the pumpkin juice or not. _His_ pumpkin juice. He barks a short, bitter laugh; no wonder Ginny 'lost her taste' for pumpkin juice once they left Hogwarts.

Ginny can't help it, she steps back another step when Harry takes another towards her. She isn't scared of him. He wouldn't physically hurt her. She repeats these words in her head a few times and is sure they're true. But with each labored breath Harry takes, she fears it's becoming less true. She watches his face cloud and darken with anger. "I- Fred- It's not what you think!" she finally settles on.

Shame prickles through her that she had even thought about blaming her brother... Harry adores Fred as a brother and she knows her brother would be ashamed to know she even knew where to get such a potion. Let alone dose Harry with it weekly; for years. She takes a moment to curse herself for forgetting to slip the potion in Harry's juice yesterday. Really... this is only her own fault. And Merlin, does that sting.

"Oh?" Harry asks, his voice low and deceptively calm.

He sways a little, suddenly feeling a little dizzy as a curious sensation crawls through him -like his blood is suddenly full of ice crystals. As the shiver that works down his body ends at his toes, making them curl almost painfully in his socks, heat flashes through him as if he has lava replace his blood. He only tightens his fists, refusing to show any reaction. When the heat finally tapers off, thank Merlin, he blinks a few times and stumbles back two steps. "You-" he whispers, horrified. He stares in shock at the red-head in front of him, feeling nothing but contempt and a slick, dirty sensation of being violated.

It's like looking at a stranger and the truth feels like a slap across his face. He nearly rocks his head with the phantom hit. He closes his eyes, barely holding in a whimper of despair. Or a growl of rage. He doesn't know which feeling is more dominate at the moment, so he stays quiet.

Ginny gasps, cursing herself again for waiting -she had been skirting just this side of good luck after waiting a day as it was. And Harry for being home early. Another few seconds and she would have pushed his spiked glass of juice in his hand like any other day and this wouldn't have happened! She cautiously reaches a hand out. It's harshly slapped and she quickly curls it against her chest. "Harry?" she asks cautiously, watching as his eyes slowly crawl over her face and body. They're clear. Shining like vibrant emeralds; as clear as the day she'd graduated Hogwart's and started this whole mess at her graduation party.

They're also full of revulsion and a level of anger she has never seen directed at her. She idly wonders if _any_one has... Her pulse picks up and she feels sweat break out along her hairline. Shit. Shit. _Shit._ This is not good... Her eyes dart around the room rapidly, looking for a way out. Just in case.

She gets a mental flash of her wand on the bathroom counter, having left it there after a hasty depilatory charm in preparation for later, and feels remarkably stupid.

"Get away from me!" Harry hisses and steps back, landing painfully against the wall by the door. He chokes on his breath, the realization dawning fully that the relationship he had been in for _years_ with the woman in front of him has been a lie. A manipulated, potion induced _lie_. "How... Why would you _do_ this to me?" he asks quietly. He knows she'd say it was because she loved him but he can't believe it. _Won't_ believe it. Who could do something like this to someone they loved? He shudders violently and rubs at his arms.

His breath stutters, choking him; love. He _had_ loved someone before Ginny. Flashes of playful smirks, blonde hair and flushed pale skin had him gasping softly. Anger throbs dully through him again when he realizes he had never been given a chance to give a proper goodbye. He feels sick, wondering how Draco would have felt to just be suddenly dropped, never spoken to again. And he hadn't even _known_... His chest clenches painfully and he feels his knees go watery.

Thankfully, the wall holds him and he doesn't have the added embarrassment of falling to his knees in front of Ginny.

"Harry, please. I love y-"

"No!" Harry shouts, pushing off the wall and rushing towards Ginny. He no longer cares what selfish reasons she had; it doesn't matter anymore. His hands twitch with the urge to wrap around her slender, pale neck and he hastily shoved them in his pockets. Choking the breath from the witch won't help anyone. "No, you don't get to say that to me. This is _not_ what one does to someone they 'love'," he sneers, making angry quote marks with his fingers. "What was it _really_, Ginevra?" he asks coldly, still sneering, ignoring her flinch at her given name. "Fame? Money?"

Ginny blanches, she could actually feel the blood drop from her face.

Well, it had been all of those things... She did love Harry, she had since she'd first laid eyes on him when she was 10 years old. The money he received from both Sirius and his parents... well, it was quite a nice bonus, too. She certainly wouldn't have been able to be in such a large, modern home otherwise. She never tired of seeing them in the paper, either. Pictures of her proudly on Harry's arm. It stung a bit that her position on the Quidditch team was partly due to being Harry Potter's girlfriend, but she _stayed_ on the team by her own efforts.

"Uhm, well... No, I don't-"

"Just stop," Harry says sadly, holding up a hand and backing up to slump against the wall again. He feels tired, drained and weak. He doesn't know if it was the whirlwind of emotions or the effect of the potion burning out of his body. He doesn't really care. He just wants to curl up under a heavy blanket and sleep. Preferably for days. "Who else knew?" he asks coldly, his gaze intense and daring her to lie.

He didn't make his relationship with Draco public, but they didn't hide it (especially not from his close friends), either. None of their friends had seemed all that surprised, really, but it still took a few weeks for the nasty looks and stiff gatherings to diminish and everyone to actually get along. He wondered if that was part of Ginny's reasoning; To save him from Draco. He grit his teeth at the very idea.

Draco is a private man, saving most affectionate gestures for when they had privacy, but he had never failed to make Harry feel anything less than cherished and loved. He thought everyone else knew that too and he couldn't bare to think any of his friends, or the Weasleys, had supported Ginny in this... debacle.

"No one," Ginny says quickly. She had made sure of it. Not only was using such a strong love potion illegal, none of her friends or family would have approved. They hadn't been exactly thrilled for Harry and Malfoy, but they accepted the couple; Harry was happy and cared for. It was stupid, that it was all anyone else really cared about. She would've too, if it hadn't been _Malfoy_.

She remembers the white hot rage she felt, her vision actually going dark with it, whenever Malfoy would kiss Harry -a gentle press of lips and his hand cupping Harry's jaw tenderly. Her teeth would grit when he'd casually touch Harry's shoulder, arm or leg when they sat. Her hands would clench into fists each time their fingers would link together, the move casual and affectionate. It just wasn't right and so obviously a put on.

Malfoy is not a tender, caring person. Harry deserved better than _him_.

Harry nods stiffly. He doesn't want to show the relief at those words and scowls instead. "Here's what's going to happen, Ginevra; we're breaking up," he says clearly, his words clipped. He feels overwhelmingly relieved that they hadn't married. Yet. He saw the calculating looks and not-so-subtly hidden bridal magazines. He doesn't know what kept Ginny from just forcing the issue but he doesn't care at the moment.

"I'm leaving you with nothing but what's on your back. You're going to get the fuck out of my house and never speak to me again. I don't want to see you or even hear your voice, ever again."

"But-"

"No!" Harry says, resisting the urge to yell. "You have no say in this any longer." He reaches over and pries the vial from her fingers, her surprise making her fingers lax and easy to uncurl. He holds it up in front of her wide eyes. "This-" he hisses, waving the vial for emphasis, "-would get you twenty years in Azkaban. Thirty, hopefully, because you dared to use it on _me_." He feels a little dirty playing the I'm-the-Savior card, but he hopes it will help her see he isn't messing around. "Leave now or I owl Kingsley."

Ginny stares, blinking stupidly until she sees the determination in Harry's eyes and in the firm set of his jaw. He would do it; he would call on his friendship with the Minister for this. She doesn't say another word, just edges around the quietly enraged man and slowly makes her way up the stairs. A quiet, "my wand" her only explanation for her detour from the front door. She winces when she realizes Harry is following her, his eyes narrowed and still full of rage. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"No, you're not," Harry says coldly. "You're only sorry you got caught. You've got your wand. Now get. Out."

Ginny nods and carefully eases around Harry again, rethinking the last moment decision of touching him. It's clear he is no longer under the potion's influence and the thin rein on his temper will probably snap if she dares lay a finger on him. As confident as she'd been earlier that Harry wouldn't hurt her, she feels it wise to not test the man. She wordlessly swings her cloak around her and leaves.

Harry watches the door close behind Ginny and sighs deeply, sagging against the wall. He takes a few moments to alter the wards; painfully barring Ginny should she ever be stupid enough to try to come back. He slides down the wall and lets the hot prickling feeling behind his eyes take over, not even wiping at the tears that spring up and trail hotly down his cheeks. He feels he's allowed a moment of self-pity. Anyone should be after learning of such deception.

He lets his forehead rest on his knees until the urge to cry has passed, his face damp and stiff but he feels a little better. He slowly gets to his feet and shuffles towards his room, pausing in the doorway.

The girly pink décor seems to suck all the air out of his chest, making the room look tiny and unwelcoming. And it stinks of Ginny's flowery perfume. He groans softly and turns, heading for the furthest guest room.

He needs a nap.

Then he is going to send a few owls.


	2. Chapter 2

_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature content and language._

_First: Sorry for any confusion; I tweaked my pen name a bit. I just felt the need for a little change.  
Onward! I know... I marked this complete. However, I had enough requests (a few but really only needed one, heh) to continue this -so I have. Hopefully, it's satisfying and answers any lingering concerns/questions. It's going to get quite fluffy, probably ridiculously so, enough to smack of being completely unrealistic. -shrug- The boys called the shots..._

_Warnings: MalexMale slash. A bit of smut. Language. _

_Enjoy! :))_

* * *

Harry wakes up with a headache, his eyes stuck together and his hand automatically stretching out for his sleeping companion. As his hand hits nothing but cool sheets, he remembers:

Ginny is gone. He's kicked her out of his home and life. Dull anger throbs through him and he grits his teeth when he remembers why.

He rolls over with a soft groan and snuggles into his pillow. The urge to wallow in self pity is overwhelmingly attractive at the moment. He's still trying to adjust to how suddenly everything happened. It almost seems like a dream. Well... A nightmare, really. He rolls onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling sluggishly.

He's not sure why he doesn't feel surprise Ginny would stoop low enough to control him with a potion. He's not, not really. Ginny has always been a stubborn woman, almost spoiled. How could she not be? She was the only girl and the youngest child; it was natural for her whims to be catered to. A bitter smile twists his lips for a moment. Why should her wanting him be any different?

He sighs and casts a wandless _Tempus_, groaning again when he sees it's after noon. He's never slept in this late before. He rolls out of bed, getting to his feet with an effort. It's odd, he should feel rested after sleeping for over 10 hours, but he doesn't. He feels sluggish and heavy. He shuffles into the bathroom, momentarily glad they got a house that had a bathroom connected to every room.

It had been ridiculously expensive but well worth it. He likes that any guest they've ever had stay with them has had the privacy and comfort. He's glad for it even more, currently, because he doesn't have to use his bathroom. Ginny has all sort of odd items in their bathroom and he's quite glad he doesn't have to see them, smell them or even have to move around them. He washes on auto-pilot, quite glad they (well, Ginny) were in the habit of keeping all the bathrooms fully stocked.

It's not until he's walking back into the guest room, his towel loosely wrapped around his hips and lightly fisted in one hand, that he realizes something that makes him pause and a rush of panic go through him. What is he going to tell their friends? The Weasleys? He can't say the real reason behind their breakup... He doesn't want Ginny in trouble, regardless of what's she's done, nor does he want to admit to having been taken advantage of.

Shit.

He casts a cleaning charm over his clothes from yesterday (feeling a bit of a weenie for not going into his own room; _again_) and heads towards his small office. He intends to send some owls and he won't put it off any longer. Half-way down the hall, his stomach growls loudly. With a sigh, he changes course towards the kitchen. Breakfast. Coffee. _Then_ owls.

..:|:..

Draco Malfoy stares out his window, his face blank, his hand wrapped around the coffee mug perched haphazardly on his knee. He sighs softly and slowly blinks. He hates Fridays. It's his one day off and he invariably spends his free time lost in thought.

Well... memories.

He feels stupid and pathetic for it, but it doesn't magically make him stronger and able to resist. It doesn't help him one bit and sometimes when he gets this maudlin, he doesn't even know why he bothers resisting. He knows he shouldn't scold himself; he's always done whatever he wants in his own thoughts. He hasn't been able to stop himself from thinking about Harry. One day they were fine, even hinting about getting serious enough to live together, and the next... nothing. Gone. He didn't go with Harry to The Burrow for the Weaselette's graduation party and it was the last time he ever saw him.

He still wonders if he had gone, would things have turned out the same? Would Harry have left him? He'd been heart-broken to see Harry with Ginny a year later. If he'd gone to that sodding party, would Ginny have been able to seduce Harry away if he were right by the dark haired wizard's side? He didn't know and it annoyed the fuck out of him, even to this day.

He had believed Harry's earnest words whenever he firmly denied any feelings for the youngest Weasley. He had believed it when Harry said he loved Draco, not Ginny. He believed Harry when the words 'at best, she's like a sister, that's it' came out of his mouth. He felt a bit pathetic, needing the reassurances, but it doesn't seem to have mattered. He can't believe Harry had lied; the foolish Gryffindor didn't have it in him to lie about _any_thing, normally. Not even silly things like whether or not he liked a restaurant or the clothes he would pick for the other wizard.

He sighs again, giving up the fight and letting himself get lost in memories. Happy memories that still manage to make him smile a little.

_Harry stares at Draco, his green eyes wide and unblinking, his fingertips pressed to his lips. "Did you just... kiss me?" he whispers, the words slightly muffled through his fingers. His lips are still tingling, both with the feeling returning from the fierce, hard (fantastic) kiss and with their combined magics tingling across his skin. He wants to shiver but he suppresses it with an effort. _

_"I did," Draco says and the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk/smile. He would call Harry daft, but he can appreciate (and quite enjoy) the wizard's surprise. It had been sudden and he nearly held himself back at the last second. The urge to kiss Harry had thundered through his brain when the other man stood so close, angled his head _just so_ and looked at him with that warm, affectionate expression. The only thing to do with that was kiss him. His heartbeat is only now leveling out to a normal rhythm._

_Honestly, it was the most natural thing to do at the time. He eyes Harry closely, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks surprised but not unpleasantly so. Something heats and coils pleasantly in his belly when Harry pulls his fingers away and smiles up at him shyly._

_"Why?" Harry's smile falters for a moment as insecurity floods back. Why would Draco -sexy, pure-blooded, rich, confident- Malfoy want him? He's still skinny and short. He still has to wear glasses, even if they're more fashionable and fit better (potions being unable to help his ruined eyes after so long). He still feels gawky and awkward, even in the best situations; he still trips over his own robes when they aren't tailored just right. He still can't drink more than two firewhiskeys without becoming completely smashed..._

_Draco narrows his eyes but sees genuine confusion. "Because, you daft bugger, I wanted to." He steps closer, slowly sliding an arm around Harry's waist. He's not refused or pushed away and he smirks smugly. He knew Harry liked him as well. It's quite the heady feeling, especially considering they practically killed each other multiple times in the years they've known each other. Ahh... the thin line... He settles his hand on Harry's hip, internally cheering when Harry leans into his touch. "I suppose I need to spell it out?"_

_"Yes, of course you do," Harry automatically replies. It's the normal script of their friendship: he doesn't get it, Draco sighs and has to explain in further detail. He never imagined it would be about... this. "I feel like I've been hit with a _Confundus_," he admits with another shy smile._

_Draco chuckles softly, completely warmed at the smile being aimed at him. Did Harry truly not know how utterly charming and attractive he is? "I'm taking that as a compliment." Harry nods his agreement, a small smile on his lips. "Right, well, Potter, I like you," he says softly, leaning a bit to speak close to Harry's ear. He wants it to be intimate plus he doesn't want to be overheard. His feelings are a bit past _like_, but he's not ready to make that deep a confession. Just yet. _

_"Like me?" Harry squeaks, embarrassingly enough._

_Draco nods and chuckles once again, thoroughly enjoying Harry's reaction. He watches Harry's cheeks flush and he finds it quite adorable. "Mhm, I like you. Quite a bit," he says, bending his head just enough to brush his nose along Harry's. He feels a little sappy doing it but it's worth it when Harry makes a soft sighing sound as his eyes flutter shut and he presses closer. _

_Again, adorable._

_He's able to sneak a few more kisses, humming happily each time they're returned by an enthusiastic Harry, before they're interrupted. He regretfully releases Harry but doesn't step back far. He doesn't want to make Harry feel awkward but he's not exactly interested in hanging off the other wizard like a lamprey, either. He does have some decorum._

* * *

_"Are you really going to make me wear this?" Harry asks, pulling gingerly at the neckline of his robes. The fabric is soft (like, really expensive kind of soft) and the cut isn't restrictive, but he's not used to wearing robes. He tries his best puppy-eyes but Draco appears immune. Cold-hearted git...  
_

_Draco hums and nods. He hates that look, it nearly always has him caving into Harry's demands, but he perseveres -even though it's bloody difficult. Harry looks fantastic in the robes. They're tailored perfectly to accentuate his lithe figure and the coloring is very complimentary. He licks his lips and nods again. "I am," he says plainly. "You look gorgeous," he says softly after another long moment of study.  
_

_He's nearly tempted to rip the robes off and ravish Harry. But he restrains himself, they only have an hour..._

_"Really?" Harry asks, feeling his cheeks warm with the compliment. He knows Draco is sincere, the blonde wouldn't say it if weren't true. He's just still getting used to hearing such things. He blinks when Draco is suddenly in front of him, his hands splayed out over his chest, gently stroking the fine fabric of the robes. He leans into the touch with a soft sound of contentment. Even though Draco's probably only smoothing out wrinkles, he tingles and flushes at the touch.  
_

_Draco hums and nods again, smiling a little. He'd think Harry was fishing for compliments but he knows it's just that lingering self-doubt his boyfriend seems unable to completely shake. He rather hates it but he's working on making sure Harry knows he's gorgeous. He also likes the way Harry's cheeks pink in a boyish blush. He quite enjoys finding new ways to make it happen. "Mhm," he says absently, feeling Harry's firm chest under the soft fabric. Exquisite. "I'm almost tempted to change them out for something horrendously plain so no one else ogles you."_

_"Draco," Harry chides softly, even though warmth bursts through him at the slightly arch tone. He's not sure how normal it is, but he kind of likes when Draco gets possessive. Especially in public; Draco tends to forget his 'no intimate touching in public' rule and sticks to him like glue. It's never anything overt or rude, but Draco's subtle touching, softly spoken words and close contact always make him feel warm. Cherished. Wanted. "I don't look like-" He clears his throat and cuts himself off. He won't ask what he's thinking and risk making Draco pissy._

_Draco raises a pale eyebrow but Harry doesn't finish his thought. Which is probably good, as he's quite sure he was going to say something disparaging towards himself. "Right," he says, working the small buttons open. "Off."_

_"Why? I haven't even tried on the shoes." Not to mention he's quite sure they had to be going in less than an hour.  
_

_Draco chuckles lowly and continues his task. "I really don't want to wrinkle them, Harry. Or rip them," he adds, giving Harry a pointed, heated look. He grins when Harry's eyes widen in understanding, his cheeks flush and his hands work at the lower buttons with rapid, surprisingly dextrous movements. He laughs, low and deep in his throat, as soon as the last button is undone and Harry wiggles out of the robes, his breathing already rapid and his trousers tenting._

_"Sorry," Harry murmurs, noticing where Draco's gaze is. He can't help it! Draco is sexy and that laugh... It never fails to shoot heat through his body and end right in his crotch. They've been dating long enough he shouldn't be embarrassed, but he can't seem to help it. He doesn't want Draco to think he's only interested in him sexually. He's not but he really can't help finding practically everything about the blonde sexy.  
_

_Especially his throaty laugh. He groans softly when he hears Draco chuckle again, as if he knew what affect it would have. _

_Draco moves in closer, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist. "Do not apologize. I'd be quite vexed if you didn't find me attractive," he says quietly, leaning in to place a few soft kisses along Harry's neck and jaw. He smiles against the heated skin when Harry's breathing picks up and his hands settle in either side of his hips. Harry isn't pulling him close just yet, but he knows it only a matter of time. "Trousers," he whispers, his fingers already working them open even as Harry starts nodding enthusiastically._

* * *

Sometimes, he hates thinking of their more... intimate moments the most. It always fills him with heat and a longing he can't do a damn thing about. He hasn't been able to date anyone since Harry and it brings back that feeling of morose patheticness. He doesn't even think that _patheticness_ is even a real word, but it's quite apt. He's the very definition of patheticness; he should submit the word and his picture along to update any and all dictionaries.

He doesn't pay much attention to the owl when it swoops past him to land on the table, he tries to ignore it as it hops about, hooting softly to gain his attention.

Until he looks.

His breath catches in his throat and he can't move for a long moment. He stares at the familiar owl, still unable to move when the bird becomes impatient and flaps up to land on his shoulder. His eyes follow the movement until he has to turn his head. His breathing is evening out but he's still lightheaded, a strange feeling of fire and ice trying to flash through his body at the same time making him shudder.

He slowly reaches up and, with a single pull to the Slytherin green ribbon around the bird's leg, pulls the shrunken envelope from the bird. He holds it, pinched awkwardly between his first two fingers, and stares at it. He recognizes Harry's messy, slanty chicken-scratch on the front. '_Draco_' written hastily but firmly. He looks up and meets the amber eyes of Harry's barn owl, Monty. "Unless you want to wait around, no reply just now," he says through numb lips. He chuckles when Monty nips affectionately at his hair and flaps off.

He watches the owl until its a speck in the sky, not even caring to delude himself that he's putting off opening the letter still clutched in his hand. He slowly looks down and enlarges the envelope with a whispered spell, unable to stop the smile as Harry's messy writing becomes larger.

What could Harry have to say after almost 3 years? Did he want to read it? It didn't look ornate and he felt relief wash through him in a dizzying flood to realize it isn't a wedding invitation. He doesn't think Harry would be so cruel... but The Weaslette would be. He strokes a finger down the front, feeling the slight depression of each letter. He can almost feel the tingle of Harry's magic through the heavy paper and he has to clench a fist to keep his own from flaring in response.

He finally steels himself and carefully slides a finger along the glued edge. He again can't suppress the smile as he thinks about Harry and his Muggle ways. He was reluctantly impressed at the clever design; one didn't have to mess about with intricate folds and messy wax and seals. He ignores his shaking hand as he pulls out the folded piece of paper. There aren't many words written and he reads it quickly. Four times.

_Draco,_

_I don't know what I can possibly say to you besides; I'm sorry. I can't go into details here, but I hope you will see me. Please let me know when is convenient for you at your earliest convenience._

_I miss you. So much. I (_Draco squints, trying to read past the hastily scribbled over words and, even on the fifth reading, he can't figure them out._) _

_Please give me a chance to explain... Please._

_Harry._

Draco folds the letter and holds it against his chest, his hands overlapping on top of it to keep it pressed close. He feels a bit sappy doing such a thing, but he can't help it. The letter is practically vibrating with Harry's magic and he's missed it so much it almost hurts to feel it again. He stares off, lost in thought; again wondering just what Harry has to say after 3 years of nothing.

Does he want to give Harry a chance to explain? He holds the letter out, again reading over the sincere words. He can practically feel Harry's desperation and plea in each word. He's barely made the decision to see Harry as soon as he possibly can when Monty is landing on his shoulder once more. "Did you miss me?" he asks the bird with a chuckle, petting along the soft feathers on his chest.

Monty just hoots softly and nibbles at his ear gently.

Draco takes that as a yes.

He summons a Muggle pen, one he got from Harry, and hastily writes a reply right on the same piece of paper. He re-reads the simple '_I'm free all day. Meet me at Joe's in an hour. -Draco_' and hopes it doesn't sound too clipped or cold. He doesn't want to rush in but he doesn't want to give up the chance to see Harry again. Even if he feels betrayed, he can't manage to avoid Harry. He barely raises his hand with the paper before it's snatched by Monty and the owl grabs it in his beak and takes off.

He watches the owl disappear again and turns, headed for a shower. He's not going to primp... He just needs a shower. And if later, he takes a bit longer with his hair styling charms, it's no one's business but his own.


	3. Chapter 3

_(A/N: Rated __**M**__ for mature content and language._

_So... it spilled over into another chapter. I didn't want the second chapter to be so much longer, so I've had to break up the remaining parts. _

_Warnings: Same as before... A _little_ more smut and naughty words.  
_

_Enjoy! :))_

* * *

Harry nervously taps on the table, his fingers beating a nervous cadence onto the fake wood, and his other hand tightly wrapped around his coffee mug. He had done an embarrassing, awkward (apparently he's even more clumsy when excited) victory dance when he got Draco's short note and immediately Apparated over to Joe's. He didn't even change or fix his hair. He's regretting his zeal a little now; he's wearing scruffy jeans, a Muggle t-shirt and his hair is just shy of a bird's nest.

_Joe's_ is (was?), essentially, their place. A nice little Muggle café that had outdoor seating as well as a cozy indoor space. He's sitting inside, unfortunately, since it's snowing again. He almost wishes he could cast a warming charm and camp outside as he waits for Draco. He stares longingly at the snow covered tables, wishing he could sit outside. They usually did before, since they both enjoyed the openness and fresh air.

He taps the table some more, his coffee forgotten. He knows Draco said an hour but he's anxious even with another expected half hour of waiting. Draco isn't one to be late. And he'll know if the blonde is showing in approximately 31 minutes.

By the time another 20 minutes have gone by, he's even more antsy and the addition of another two coffees isn't helping him keep still. He probably shouldn't have drank them but he needed something to occupy his hands and he hadn't thought to bring anything along to entertain himself while he waited. Everyone else in the small café has thought ahead; the neighboring Muggles are absorbed in their cell phones, larger electronic devices he can't identify and books or magazines. He groans softly and curses when he realizes he needs the bathroom. He checks the time.

If Draco is early, he runs the risk of missing the blonde. He'd probably leave if he didn't see Harry. He really _really_ can't stomach that possibility.

If he's on time (or late), he's likely to wet himself. He can't stomach _that_ possibility, either. He'd rather leave...

He fidgets, torn between the two options, and the urge grows. He hastily stands and rushes towards the restroom, nearly knocking some poor bloke over in his rush. He mutters an apology over his shoulder and hurries, washing his hands with speed that probably didn't count as sanitary. And as he rushes out of the door, he pauses. His breathing whistles out and he's sure his heart literally stops for a few seconds.

Draco.

And Merlin he looks amazing. His imagination is probably putting the halo around him, a trick of the winter sunlight around the blonde, but it doesn't go away when he blinks a few times. He manages to suppress the urge to whimper but he can't keep in the sigh.

He rushes over to where he was sitting earlier, waving as subtly as he can to get the blonde's attention. He smiles a little when he notices Draco falter, his grey eyes widening a fraction. He's quite glad to see some reaction; even if it is a small one. It's a relief to know he's not the only one affected after all this time, even if he can't exactly read Draco's expression. He watches as Draco bypasses his table to the counter and orders something sweet, frothy and covered in whipped cream. He feels like a bastard when he realizes he hadn't thought to order for Draco. He knows what he likes.

Well... what he liked. He's quite relieved to see his order hasn't changed but he's again feeling bad for not thinking ahead. His knee is bouncing by the time Draco saunters over, carefully licking whipped cream from the top of his drink. He quickly averts his eyes; now is not the time to be reminded of that tongue or ogle the man. He waits until Draco arranges his cup, his jacket on the back of the chair and finally himself in the plush seat.

"Draco," he says quietly. He's surprised how much even he hears in that single word. Two syllables somehow able to convey his longing, sorrow, desire, love and an apology.

Draco swallows thickly, unsure what to say. He can't breath for a moment as he stares into earnest, pained green eyes. He very nearly sways toward the man so he grips the table. "Harry."

"I'm so sorry!" Harry blurts out in a rush. He wants to grab Draco's hand but he keeps them curled in his lap, a little afraid to touch the blonde after so long. He's almost sure Draco has to hate him. He wouldn't blame the blonde either. "I didn't... I didn't know," he says softly, feeling lame and inadequate.

Draco's hand pauses halfway to his mouth, his coffee forgotten in a moment. He lowers his cup and clears his throat. There are so many questions... Harry looks so miserable. What didn't he know? "What happened? Why did you leave me?" he asks, rather annoyed with himself as his voice breaks a little at the last two words.

"I didn't mean to, Draco," Harry says softly but firmly. He has to make sure Draco believes that. "I was..." he pauses, finally remembering they're in a public place. Even if it is Muggle... He casts a discreet privacy ward, nodding when he sees no one react to the small, but powerful, burst of magic. "I was tricked. With a potion," he finally admits. He worries his lower lip, scared Draco will think he's lying or accuse him of deserving it for trusting Weasleys.

Draco feels his stomach tighten. "Really?" he can't help ask. Harry nods, looking absolutely miserable. He sits back and thinks. He believes Harry, of course. The man is trusting enough to allow a potion to be slipped into his drink, which he can't fault him for. Who'd be on their guard around trusted friends and family? And most of the more potent love/lust potions tended to hone one's focus solely on their target. He can't even feel a begrudging respect for Ginny having the nerve to slip Harry a potion. He's just furious it happened. Furious and heartsick. That witch stole nearly 3 years of his life and his man. His hands clench into fists but he loosens them when he sees Harry's shoulders slump and his eyes dull.

"Did you report her?" he asks, sipping at his drink in an effort to calm down. He's not mad at Harry, even though he really wanted to be. He can't be, not really. Not now. Harry's as much a victim in this as he is. Merlin help the Weaslette if he ever gets his hands on her...

Harry slowly shakes his head, still unable to read Draco: Is he mad? Is he still unsure? Did Draco believe him? "No, but I told her if I ever saw her again I would..."

"Good," Draco hisses. He leans forward quickly, grabbing Harry's hand before he can lose his nerve. Harry was usually the rash acting Gryffindor... It's worth the risk when Harry's hand immediately grips his back and he's given a bright smile. He loosens his grip a little, now that he knows Harry won't let go. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry blinks in surprise. "For what? I left you..." he whispers brokenly, his eyes prickling. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. An emotional scene, in public, won't win him Draco back. It'll probably have him recoiling in disdain and walking out... even if he wishes Draco would pull him to his lap and cuddle him. He's missed being cuddled. With Ginny he was the cuddler, not the cuddlee. The one time she gave in to his request to try it the other way around, she had bitched the entire time bout how awkward it was, ruining it. (Which was fine, really, as it felt really weird having breasts pushing against his back.)

"For allowing you to be taken in," Draco says quietly, feeling guilt and anger twist in his gut. He's also sorry for assuming Harry had willingly left him, but he doesn't say that aloud. He knows Harry is already beating himself up enough without adding that. He takes a deep breath, not wanting to be so bloody emotional but needing to say it. "For not going with you. I should have, I should have gone and showed my support and love."

Harry blinks a few more times, taken by surprise by another wave of emotions. "But, Draco... I knew you didn't like the Weasleys..."

"No, but that shouldn't have mattered," Draco says quietly. He knew from the start the Weasleys were like family to Harry and he should have just accepted it. "It's half my own fault for letting my boyfriend go somewhere alone. I should have stood by you, Harry."

Harry breathes out, his hair ruffling a little in the breeze. "Fine. We were both stupid," he says with a grin. He scootches his chair closer, his grip on Draco's hand not budging in the least. He's not letting go anytime soon.

..:|:..

_Draco moans lowly, his head tilting back and giving Harry more room as his lips, tongue and teeth work along his neck. His hands bury in messy dark hair and he forcefully drags Harry's mouth back to his, licking into his mouth with a groan. "Fuck, you're a quick learner," he whispers against Harry's lips._

_"I just can't help it. There's so much I want to do to you," Harry says as he practically pants, his hands already moving down Draco's body and gripping his arse. He pulls away a little when Draco makes an odd sound. "Am I being too rough?" he asks, concerned.  
_

_Draco shakes his head and arches into Harry. He hadn't expected Harry to be so forceful. It's fan-fucking-tastic, really. He likes it and he's nearly giddy with the possibility that Harry will take him this time. "No... Fuck," he breathes, whining a little when Harry's hands immediately returned to his arse as soon as he said 'no'. "Feels so good."_

_"Good. I'm hoping we can try something different," Harry says softly, nipping at Draco's Adam's apple, hiding his blushing face. He very much enjoyed feeling Draco inside him, but he was nearly bursting with the urge to sink into Draco. He wants to feel what it's like. He groans loudly when he hears another 'fuck!' and feels Draco nod. "Really?" he asks, a little surprised._

_He didn't think Draco would agree._

_"Fuck, yes, Harry," Draco says desperately, pawing at Harry's pants. He's nearly drooling as his hand closes around Harry, his arse and thighs tingling with heat and anticipation; Harry isn't overly large, but bigger than he would have expected for his size. "Do you know what to do?" he asks softly. He didn't want to ruin the mood but he also didn't want Harry freezing up at an inopportune time with uncertainty. He doesn't think he can take any delays at his point._

_Harry nods, mumbling a soft 'yeah' into Draco's neck. He blinks when they're suddenly naked. "Eager, eh?" he murmurs, laughing softly. Draco only nods and shoves him towards their bed. He lands with a grunt, immediately wrapping his hands around the blonde's hips when Draco straddles him. He doesn't ask if Draco's changed his mind, he's happy to just continue in any way at all._

..:|:..

"I sometimes felt like something was missing," Harry says softly, running his thumb over Draco's knuckles. "I just never knew what." He remembers feeling like he wanted something that Ginny wasn't able to give him. Even in his potion addled mind. It used to drive him crazy, and he would feel restless and unsatisfied now matter what Ginny did. Now he knows he missed a firm chest and pale, unblemished skin. He missed the full, content feeling he got only with Draco.

Draco hums softly, unwilling to point out what Harry had been missing was _him_. It's quite obvious the Weaslette was in no way an adequate substitute. By the look on Harry's face, he's quite sure the other man already knew those things though. "Did you... were you serious?" he asks, wincing a little and dreading the answer. He didn't really expect them to be together for nearly 3 years and _not_ have sex. Not with Harry being pumped full of a love/lust potion weekly. He feels a bit nauseous, his stomach clenching and rolling with the thought of Ginny touching his Harry.

"I guesso," Harry answers with a shrug. "I guess I loved her, I needed to see her every day. But I never wanted to move further. We only slept together a few times, when she wanted to. I didn't... I couldn't always..." he trails off, blushing. It's embarrassing to admit he couldn't always get an erection and he's rather relieved he knows why now. Even if Ginny had tried to control him, she hadn't been completely successful. Some part of him remembered Draco and wanted only him. Or... just not Ginny.

He's quite sure Ginny quickly learned to pounce on him the same day she gave him his weekly potion, he was definitely more susceptible to her advances with the potion heating his blood and skin. He probably would have gladly shagged Snape or an upright Hippogriff in that state.

Draco chuckles softly, holding up his free hand when Harry glares at him. "I'm sorry. It's not funny but... well, serves her right, doesn't it?"

"I suppose..."

Draco nods. He's right and even Harry knows it, whether or not he's going to admit it aloud. He sips at his coffee, watching Harry over the rim, hoping the Gryffindor won't be too upset when he insists Ginevra be handled properly... but he won't contact the Aurors until he's convinced Harry of it. It might even be fun...


	4. Chapter 4

_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature content and language._

_Thank you, everyone, for the follows, favorites and reviews. I didn't expect much from this, merely because I didn't spend a lot of time developing the story since it was just a short, for a theme. But yay! __I'm still adjusting to short chapters, so they might stop at awkward spots/cliffhangers. _

_Warnings: MalexMale slash. Smut. Language. _

_Enjoy! :))_

* * *

By the time Draco finishes his last coffee, it's getting dark out and he's getting hungry for more than just liquids and café treats. He clears his throat softly, gaining Harry's attention off his hands. "Dinner?"

"Yes," Harry immediately agrees. He stands quickly and hurriedly slips his coat on, pausing with one arm in a sleeve when he hears Draco laughing. "What? You did mean now, right?" he asks, feeling his cheeks warm. He probably shouldn't seem so eager. But he _is_ and he's never really been able to pretend otherwise with Draco.

Draco nods, smiling at the familiar blush. Harry is still adorable with pinked cheeks. "Yes, I did mean now," he says with a chuckle and shrugs into his own coat. He rounds the table and pulls Harry into a kiss, sighing when Harry presses into him and kisses him back after only a moment's pause. He's sure he's shocked the Gryffindor but he's glad Harry didn't take too long to react.

"Oh," Harry says when Draco pulls away a little. He doesn't care he's just been kissed, quite thoroughly, in a café. He's giddy that Draco's kissed him at all! He presses his fingers to his lips, the feeling like their first kiss all over again. He can't help the shy smile this time either. "I'm glad," is all he says.

Draco nods. He's glad too. Well... ecstatic really, but 'glad' is a good start. He winds Harry's dreadful red scarf around his neck and leads him from the café.

..:|:..

"Draco!" Harry gasps, his back landing against his front door with a muffled bang. "Draco," he says again, but in a soft moan this time as Draco's lips attach to his neck as hips press against his. It's been so long since he's been handled or touched with such passion. His skin tingles and he's nearly panting. It feels wonderful but he's taken aback.

Draco pulls back, his face morphing from a look of pleasure to concern. "Harry?" he asks softly. Is he moving too fast?

"I'm OK," Harry says, pulling Draco closer. "I was just surprised," he admits, sliding a hand into Draco's hair. He sighs softly; he's missed that sensation. Ginny's hair was too long to properly slide his fingers through. Plus, she hated when he messed it up. He wiggles his fingers against Draco's scalp, smiling when Draco's eyes flutter closed and he hums, almost purrs, in contentment.

Draco leans into Harry, re-familiarizing himself with the lithe body. "Too quick?" he asks, dipping his head to nip and kiss along Harry's neck.

"A little," Harry admits. He grabs onto Draco's arm when the blonde goes to step back. "It's not you, Draco. It's just... I'm still getting over being drugged for almost 3 years. I've missed you," he says quietly, cupping Draco's face with both hands. "And it kills me that I need some time to adjust."

Draco shakes his head and places his hands over Harry's, turning his head a little to kiss Harry's palm gently. "I understand. I do," he repeats when Harry's eyes drop with shame. "I'm just... I've missed you too and I haven't stopped thinking about you since... well, since Weaslette happened."

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispers, the urge to cry almost overwhelming him for a moment. It's almost too much and he slides down the door, unaware of Draco following him down and shifting closer. "I'm sorry," he says again, squeezing his eyes shut.

Draco shifts until he's against the wall and he pulls Harry into his lap. He smiles when Harry sighs and practically melts into him. "Stop apologizing. This isn't your fault, remember?" He feels Harry nod, the motion reluctant. He sighs and runs a hand through Harry's hair, kissing his temple. "We'll take our time," he promises, rubbing a hand down Harry's back.

"Are you sure?" Harry asks, unable to pull himself away from Draco's chest and hands long enough to look up to see if Draco's being completely honest or not. He's relieved to hear the words, but he can't bear the thought of Draco being pained. He can't stand the thought of making Draco wait even longer or if the blonde decides he's not worth the effort... But even as wonderful and right as it feels to be with Draco, he can't make himself rush into where they were, either, and it's quite frustrating.

Draco nods, kissing the top of Harry's head this time. "Completely. I'm going to pester you daily of course," he says with a smile. "But we won't do anything you aren't comfortable with."

"Thank you," Harry whispers. He enjoys Draco's soothing touch and comforting presence for awhile, just soaking in his warmth. "Will you stay over?" he asks quietly.

Draco pauses for only a moment, his hand hovering over Harry's back. "Yes, of course," he answers.

"Just... just to sleep, though. OK?"

Draco nods, a smile slowly growing. "Of course," he repeats. He gently nudges Harry back, smiling sheepishly when the other man crawls off his lap. "Sorry, I really don't want to move but my arse was starting to go numb."

"Oh! Sorry!" Harry bends to help Draco up, patting him down in an effort to get the stray bits of floor debris off and blood flowing. He pauses, flushing almost violently when he realizes he's practically groping Draco's arse. "Sorry," he murmurs again, pulling his hands away.

Draco waves a hand dismissively before grabbing Harry's hand and leading him upstairs. "Which room?" he asks, looking back at Harry expectantly. Harry points to a door. He opens it and pauses. The room is furnished but very plain. He knows this isn't Harry's room and he's momentarily surprised to feel a flush of irritation go through him that's quickly squashed by a rush of understanding. Harry hasn't been in his room either...

"I know," Harry says, catching Draco's expression. He shrugs, feeling awkward. "It's one of the guest rooms. I couldn't..." he trails off. He leans into Draco's hug immediately, relieved he doesn't have to explain himself. "C'mon," he says, pulling Draco into the room. He hops onto the bed, grinning when Draco does the same. He crawls under the blankets, holding them up for Draco.

Draco sighs as he sinks into the comfortable mattress. He pulls Harry closer, happy when there is no resistance and Harry curls into his side, his head resting on his shoulder with familiarity. A whispered spell leaves them both in just their underwear. He tightens his arm around Harry when there is a soft gasp and then a quiet sigh.

"Sorry," he says, mostly meaning it. He hadn't meant to surprise Harry but he also has no intention of sleeping fully clothed either.

Harry shakes his head and settles back against Draco. "It's OK," he says, closing his eyes and just enjoying Draco's warmth. The comforting embrace. Even his smell. "'Night," he whispers.

"Good night, Harry."

..:|:..

Harry wakes up, blinking groggily, to pounding on his front door.

"Get that or I'm going to hex whoever it is to Antarctica," Draco grumbles, his face shifting to bury in the pillow.

Harry chuckles softly, eases out from the covers and rolls from the bed. He shuffles towards the front door, pulling a robe around himself. "Wha?" he mumbles, rubbing at his hair. He blinks stupidly when he suddenly gets a face full of a pissed off Ronald Weasley. "Ron?"

"Harry! You bastard! How could you kick Ginny out? With nothing?" Ron roars, stepping closer to Harry and yelling in his face. He's seething, unable to believe Harry would do such a thing to his little sister. But she had indeed arrived at his and Hermione's with nothing but what she wore and the words 'Harry broke up with me and kicked me out'. Hermione had convinced him to wait until today to confront Harry, hoping he'd calm down. He hasn't and he's _this close_ to just punching his best mate right in the face.

Former best mate, most likely.

"Ron, it's a long story and there's more to it than that," Harry says tiredly, leaning against the doorjamb with another yawn. "What time is it anyway?"

Ron checks the Muggle watch Hermione got him for their anniversary. "Seven oh five," he says, sounding a little sheepish under the snapped reply.

"Bloody buggering hell," Harry mutters. "You stomped over here, this early, just to yell at me?" he asks incredulously. He leans in, taking a closer look at Ron. "And probably knock me out, as well, I'd imagine," he adds dryly, noting the clenched jaw and fists on the red-head.

Ron nods curtly. "Can I come in or what?" he finally asks. He's calmed, a little, and hoping he'll get Harry's side to things. Plus, he doesn't think they need to be fighting or screaming on the stoop. Hopefully, he hasn't woken up any of Harry's neighbors.

"Fine," Harry says with a sigh. He steps to the side and lets Ron in, sighing again when he closes the door. "I don't know what else to say, mate. It's kinda personal." Of course, he knows 'personal' doesn't mean much. It never really has with his best friends, especially Hermione. He counts it as a small favor the witch isn't here instead (or with Ron). Right now, he probably couldn't quite handle her nurturing drive to sort out answers and see him and Ginevra mended.

Ron sits on the nearest chair and glares up at Harry. He winces when he realizes Harry's only wearing a robe and his hair looks like Monty tried to sleep in it. "I can wait while you get dressed. And make coffee," he adds as Harry just turns towards his room without another word. He raises an eyebrow when he notices Harry heading towards one of the guest rooms.

His anger abates a little more; things must have been fucked up if Harry isn't sleeping in his room anymore. He feels a niggle of guilt, feeling like a bit of an arse for barging over and demanding answers. Especially this early. He sighs softly and rubs a hand over his face. Maybe Herm was right; this is between Harry and his sister and he should've stayed out of it.

But Ginny is his little sister. He can't let a bloke treat her like that. Not even his best mate.

He sits up when Harry comes back in a few minutes later, dressed in rumpled clothes and carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. He takes the proffered mug and blows on it as he waits for Harry to speak.

"I really don't know what to say Ron. I'm not sure if I should explain everything that happened," Harry says slowly. He holds up a hand when Ron goes to speak. "I can tell you I didn't overreact. I can tell you that Ginevra deserved what happened. And I can also tell you we're not going to see each other. Ever again."

Ron takes in the words, sipping his coffee slowly. "I still don't get it Harry. If it were any other bloke, I'd knock his teeth down his throat..." he admits with a shrug.

"And I can respect that," Harry says honestly, perching his mug on his knee. "Did Ginevra tell you what happened?"

Ron's eyebrows pinched together, noticing Harry avoided saying 'Ginny' twice now. Merlin, what happened to have him so pissed at his sister? "Not really. She just said you broke up with her and kicked her out."

"Nothing else?" Ron shook his head. "Well, isn't that sweet," he mutters sarcastically. "Look, if I tell you what happened, you have to promise to let me finish, yeah? No jumping in halfway through, no stomping off before I can finish and no yelling," he adds, hoping Ron won't wake Draco.

Ron nods slowly, his brows pinching again. This sounds serious... And as Harry explains, he can feel his face pale and his chest tighten. "Merlin," he whispers when Harry finishes. His mug is empty by now, sitting forgotten on the floor, and he's got his elbows perched on his knees. He drops his face into his hands and takes a few deep breathes. "Fuck," he says softly.

Ginny is in deep shit and there isn't anything he can do about it. He briefly considers asking Harry to keep quiet but he can't. He won't. "I'm sorry," he says thickly, feeling shame prickle through him. He should have realized something was off when Harry suddenly got back with his sister. His chest tightens again, reluctantly this time, as he thinks of Draco. The Slytherin had to have been crushed by such sudden events. They were only starting to get along when Harry got back with Ginny.

"What are you going to do?" Ron asks quietly, looking up at Harry slowly.

"He's going to tell the bloody Aurors, that's what he's going to do."

Ron jumps and gapes at the sight of a bedraggled Draco Malfoy leaning in the doorway, his ankles and arms crossed causally. He blinks as he meets the sleepy but still clear silvery grey eyes that glare at him; daring him to argue. He nods slowly.

"Draco!" Harry says, twisting around in his chair. He had jumped too when Draco suddenly spoke up. "I'm sorry, I thought you were still sleeping," he says, feeling a little sheepish.

Draco waves away Harry's words, not at all bothered. He hadn't felt left out but he's even more enraged now that he's heard more details about the whole ordeal. He doesn't ask why Harry didn't tell him all of it; he knows the noble idiot was only trying to spare his feelings. He can appreciate it, it makes him feel oddly warmed and embarrassingly gooey inside, but he's even more determined to see matters through. He enters the room and shamelessly plops himself onto Harry's lap. "Quite alright, love," he says quietly. He ignores Ron's sputtering and focuses on dragging a hand through Harry's messy hair.

"Malfoy," Ron says, surprised. "I didn't know... Uhm..." he trails off, suddenly embarrassed. He wants to be mad at Harry for moving so quickly, but after what he's heard, he can't be. If he were in Harry's shoes, he would have owled Draco first thing as well. "So, I suppose you heard all that?"

Draco nods, settling himself against Harry. "I did. And I'm not going to be swayed from my answer, Potter," he says, slowly turning his head and eyeing Harry intently. He's still probably going to have to work on convincing Harry it's the proper course of action, but from the look of his Gryffindor, it won't take him long. He nearly thanks Weasley for doing half the work.


	5. Chapter 5

_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature content and language._

_Thank you for the reviews, follows and favorites!_

_Warnings: MalexMale slash. A bit more smut. Language.  
_

_Enjoy.)_

* * *

"I... I don't know," Harry says softly, looking down at his lap... well, Draco's lap since the blonde is still perched there. He keeps his eyes firmly on the outer seem of Draco's sleep pants, not wanting to be distracted.

He can't look at Ron and see the resigned sadness. And he can't look at Draco, just in case there's a smug expression on his handsome face. It's not like it shouldn't be there, but he just can't manage to see it right now. Not with Ron looking so... miserable.

Ron nods along, looking between the two wizards with a resigned sort of sadness about him. "You really need to Harry. It wasn't right what she did," he admits. "I know," he says when Harry's head whips around and he's stared at with shock. "I don't want my little sister in prison, but, c'mon, if it were anyone else, I'd be the first in line to see them taken away."

"I know, but-" Harry sighs and looks up, finally meeting his friend's eye. "I can't imagine what this will do to you all."

Ron can only shrug. "That's really beside the point, mate. Sure, mum will be upset but it's not like Ginny is innocent in all of this."

"No," Harry agrees softly and studies Draco's lap again. He sighs when Draco scoffs. "What?"

Draco shakes his head and regards Ron. "You came here intent on making Harry out to be the bad guy," he says blandly, though there is a hint of a question in his tone. Ron has the decency to flush but he nods a little. "And you realize this is not the case." He knows the red-head is already convinced of his sister's guilt and he probably shouldn't rub it in, but he's feeling tetchy from the entire situation and being rudely awoken so damn early. The need to make the red-head suffer a bit is strong. He ignores Harry's hand on his leg, for the moment, and keeps his gaze pinned on the fidgeting Ron.

"Yeah, I already said, didn't I?"

Draco sniffs and sits up a little, not at all feeling a loss of influence from being in Harry's lap still. "You did," he agrees silkily. "Now, are you really agreeing to have your little sister thrown in Azkaban?" he asks in a low voice. He really expects the red-head to plead with Harry for a favor. Maybe a reduced sentence, since the options of where the Weaslette would wind up were limited. Azkaban wasn't guarded by Dementors any longer but it was still a dreary, oppressive place.

"I already said, didn't I?" Ron repeats, feeling annoyed. He glares up at the blonde, unsure what he's getting at. "I don't expect Harry to forget this, I don't expect him to 'get over it' and I really don't expect _you_ to poke your pointy nose in this," he ends with a finger pointing towards the blonde.

Draco snickers and shakes his head. "Like it or not, Weasley, I am involved. I was involved before your sister drugged my man and I am involved now," he says seriously. "I won't be going anywhere. Not unless Harry, himself, tells me to bugger off."

"I won't be," Harry says quietly. He lets his forehead rest on Draco's shoulder for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Look, I know this is probably going to piss you both off, but I can't do this right now." As he expects, he's met with silence and then two distinct sounds of teeth being sucked. But they don't argue.

..:|:..

_Harry hums as Draco nuzzles the back of his neck, wiggling a bit to scootch closer to the blonde's chest._

_"We should go somewhere," Draco says softly, tracing a random pattern on Harry's abdomen. He smiles when he feels the muscles twitch and Harry makes a breathless giggle sort of sound when his finger reaches the indent of his navel. "Where would you like to go?" he asks when Harry only nods and hums again._

_Harry shrugs before shifting and wriggling so he can turn around to look at Draco easier. As wonderful and comforting as it is to lay spooning, he likes to see Draco's face when they talk; he can get a much better feel for what the blonde is thinking and feeling that way. "I dunno," he murmurs and stretches lazily, tucking his head under Draco's chin for a moment. He swirls a finger around Draco's chest as he thinks. "Anywhere is fine? I haven't really been anywhere." He doesn't think Hogwarts (and the surrounding town) really counts as 'anywhere'.  
_

_"Paris?" Draco asks, frowning a little when he feels Harry shake his head no. "Milan?" Another head shake. "Berlin?" As he feels another head shake he tightens his arms around Harry slightly and tries not to sigh. He hates the reminders of Harry's lacking childhood. "Right," he drawls, moving his legs so they slot with Harry's. "We'll just have to see them all."_

_Harry blinks a few times and slowly untucks his head to stare at Draco with incredulous, wide eyes. "You aren't serious."_

_"I am," Draco says firmly, smirking a little. He chuckles and kisses the tip of Harry's nose. "Merlin, you're adorable. Yes, I'm serious. Why shouldn't we go?" he asks, an eyebrow raised. He's not sure what Harry's thinking about but he wants to scowl when he sees Harry worry the inside of his cheek.  
_

_Harry can only shrug, feeling dazed and a little stunned stupid. He can't think of a logical reason they shouldn't go. He tries, but he can't. He knows telling Draco he didn't _need_ to go wouldn't work (Draco is still one for self-indulgence and would scoff). Nor would it work if he claimed he didn't want to. He does; he's always wanted to travel. He slowly nods. "Yeah, alright. I've always wanted to see New York," he admits quietly. Surely, that will be too far..._

_"Excellent. I've heard good things about the food," Draco says easily, chuckling again when Harry does his stunned blinking thing again. He curls a hand under Harry's chin and kisses him softly. "You should know by now I wouldn't deny you anything," he says quietly. It's still a bit awkward to say such things but Harry's expressive face always makes it worthwhile. He gently brushes a thumb over Harry's pinked cheek and smirks with self-satisfaction. It's getting easier to say such Hufflepuff things, and infinitely more rewarding.  
_

_Harry nods slowly, feeling stunned stupid again. But in a good way. He grins dopily and kisses Draco soundly, laughing softly at the besotted way Draco gazes back at him. He adores when Draco looks at him like that and he feels himself go gooey inside. He'll panic later about not being fluent in German or French like Draco. Right now, he just snuggles down and looks forward to a, no doubt, long trip.  
_

* * *

_"Shit," Draco hisses, his hands scrabbling down Harry's back. He doesn't know when Harry learned how to move his hips and fingers like that and he's not inclined to care. He makes another embarrassing noise when he feels Harry shift again, pleasure tingling all over his body from where their skin presses together in a slick slide. He snickers when Harry's hands still, one dripping with lube, and he looks around with concern... or confusion. "What?" he finally asks.  
_

_Harry shrugs and finally just settles on wiping his hand on the folded back comforter. Draco did say being messy (well, Draco had said filthy, but it makes him flush embarrassingly to think it) was one of the perks of Hotel Sex. "Nothing," he murmurs and wiggles around until he's perched more comfortably on Draco's hips. He bats Draco's hands away, again, when they reach for him. "No," he says firmly. "I said I wanna do it."_

_"Fine. Bloody tease," Draco groans, closing his eyes as Harry just starts wiggling and rolling his hips again. He's sure Harry will just innocently claim he's trying to find the right position, but he thinks it's deliberate. "Harry," he hisses through gritted teeth. His hands are smacked away,_ again_, when he tries to help. He huffs and lets his hands fall back to the bed, both landing right above his head by the pillow. He can't help the low moan that comes from his fucking toes when Harry leans forward and grabs each of his wrists and presses down._

_Harry smirks, quite content to see Draco squirm and flush pink. He nips at Draco's neck, grazing his teeth along his bobbing Adam's apple and chuckles when Draco whines as he shifts around again. He knows he's being a bit unfair, but he's still working out the best way to situate himself in this position. "Alright," he murmurs when Draco's eyes slowly open and he's glared at; it's too lust addled to really make him do anything but grin and wiggle. He snickers and only releases one hand, reaching behind himself awkwardly. "Need a minute," he pants as he finally gets the right angle and slides down, straining a bit as he tries to control the movement. With his weight and gravity pulling him down, it's nearly overwhelming to feel Draco so deep._

_"Yeah," Draco mumbles, agreeing completely. He doesn't even care he's reduced to saying 'yeah' -not when Harry slowly leans back and does that infernal wiggling and hip rolling again. The rein on his control snaps when Harry's hands settle on his thighs and he hears the shaky gasp as a result of the pleasurable pressure. He really had fully intended to let Harry have his way, but he can't just lay there. He smirks triumphantly when his hands aren't smacked away and he eagerly slides them up Harry's thighs to wrap around his hips. "Just helping," he murmurs, watching intently as Harry just nods, his head falling back and he starts to move. _

..:|:..

Harry watches from the upstairs window as the Aurors escort Ginevra out of his house and down the sidewalk. He doesn't turn when he hears the bedroom door slowly creak open. He doesn't move when he hears the soft footsteps padding towards him. He does relax when he feels a firm chest press against his back and arms wrap around his waist. He leans into the comforting embrace and sighs, restraining the urge to turn and burrow himself in Draco's comforting warmth and scent.

"You aren't seriously feeling bad about this, are you?" Draco murmurs, his eyes flicking up briefly to see the Aurors (and the Weaselette) disappear with a swirl and a pop. He was a bit worried Harry would have second thoughts, but he hadn't. He's quite proud of Harry, even if he knows saying it aloud isn't a good idea right now.

Harry slowly shakes his head. "Not really. I mean... I _was_," he says quietly. He chews on the inside of his bottom lip waiting for a response but Draco doesn't say anything. There's only an understanding noise made in his throat that he can feel, not so much hear, through where their bodies are pressed together.

When an Auror had popped in with Ginevra, she had pinned him with such betrayed, angry eyes, he nearly _did_ want to call everything off. He had stared down at his socked feet and felt anger replacing the stupid guilt and his hands clenched. A pointed look from Draco only reinforced that feeling of anger and betrayal he felt. Still feels. Where did Ginevra get off being pissed at _him_? He ended up tilting his chin defiantly, a move he'd seen Draco do too often to count and he hoped he imitated it well enough, and glared back. He tried not to blink with shock when the red-head seemed to wilt and look away.

He had another brief moment of doubt when an Auror had bound Ginevra to a chair as the other searched their house. Any spot where a potion vial could be hidden. He didn't know if they'd find anything but he didn't have any objections to them searching. There were plenty of spaces vials could be hidden, plenty of spaces he thought of as 'Ginny's' and hadn't bothered with in an effort to give her privacy. He's quite sure she abused that knowledge... Nor did she share it. He remembers her going through his things often enough. He didn't have anything to hide, but he had still been annoyed.

"Do you really think I'd leave vials laying around?" Ginny had asked with a trembling sneer. She was ignored and an Auror flitted through the room and handed three small vials to her partner before going upstairs. The Auror with the vials just looked at them, laying in his palm and tinkling mutely as they shifted around, and smirked at a paling Ginevra Weasley. They were full, but even empty vials could be tested for potion residue. The grotesque pink was proof enough, but everyone knew they needed to be tested to be sure.

Harry didn't enjoy the invasion of privacy, but he didn't protest it either, when the Aurors' search got very... thorough. Drawers and cubby holes were checked, wands waved over them to double check. He knew the Ministry couldn't just take his word as proof for such serious accusations. He wasn't surprised when the Auror found another half dozen vials without even looking hard and another dozen empty vials. As one searched, the other came over and got his statement. He even submitted to a pensieve extraction for the day he found out and ended things with Ginevra.

"You're over that, I hope," Draco murmurs. He feels Harry nod, slowly, but surely. "Good," he says, placing a light kiss on the top of Harry's head. He smirks, unable to help himself, as the look on the Weaselette's face flashes through his mind. He really couldn't understand why she had kept the vials around... especially the empty ones. He feels irritated Harry hadn't noticed any of them before today but he doesn't really blame the man. Not really. Harry tended to give people too much, even at the cost of himself. He's sure Harry had tried to give the Weaselette her privacy... Or he just didn't like poking around in girly things. And he can't blame the Gryffindor one bit.

Harry stares at the spot the Aurors and Ginevra popped away from for another few minutes before turning in Draco's arms and pressing his face into the blonde's neck like he wanted to. "Did Ron go?"

"No," Draco says with a shrug. "He wanted to see you before he left." He doesn't exactly know what Ron wants, but he'll be damned if he lets the red-head yell at his Harry again. He might've sounded agreeable but seeing a loved one, bound and arrested by Aurors can really change one's perspective. "C'mon," he says after another few moments of quiet, Harry's fingers tightly woven in his shirt. He gently loosens them and rubs a hand down Harry's back. He doesn't want to force Harry but he doesn't want him to hide upstairs either.


	6. Chapter 6

_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature content and language._

_I again thank you all for the reviews, follows and favorites. I'm glad I extended this... but now it's over. _

_Warnings: MalexMale slash. Little bit o' smut. Language._

_Enjoy. :))_

* * *

Harry sighs but leans back, walking around Draco with a resigned air about him. He's expecting to be yelled at. He knows he'll take some of it but he's not going to let Ron make him out to be the one at fault. "Hey, mate," he says quietly, walking into the room where Ron's sitting. He's got a small glass of amber liquid perched on his thigh and his head resting on his palm.

"Hey," Ron says, watching Harry sit awkwardly. He clears his throat and sets the glass down on the nearest table, leaning forward. "Look, stop giving me those sad eyes, mate. I can't handle it. I'm not pissed at you, Harry," he says with a sigh. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't being a complete wanker and feeling guilty."

Harry can't help the small smile as he shakes his head. He does notice when Draco sidles into the room but he doesn't take his attention off Ron, not even when the blonde perches his arse right on his chair and drapes himself over his shoulders. He's not sure why Draco is being so hands-on in front of Ron, but he doesn't mind. Not really. Ron doesn't appear too bothered by it either, after the initial grimace.

"No," he finally says, giving Ron the benefit of a verbal answer. He eyes the red-head carefully. "You aren't mad at me?"

Ron sighs again and wipes a hand over his face. "No, how can I be, mate? After what Ginny did..." he trails off, shaking his head sadly. He truly can't understand why his little sister would do such a thing. Well, he _can_, but he's appalled she had gone through with it. And none of them even knew! "Mum cried-" His eyes widen a bit and he starts flailing his hands around when Harry's shoulders slumped. "But she was horrified at Ginny's actions!" he says quickly. "Mum felt so bad she'd do something like that to you." His eyes slowly shift to look at Draco, nodding his head once, "And you."

"Me?" Draco asks, gaping ever-so-slightly and poking a finger in his own chest. Sure, he had gotten smothered by Mrs. Weasley's amble bosom the first time Harry had brought him 'round, but he hadn't thought the Weasley matriarch liked him _that_ much. It had taken him a few visits to get used to the woman's near constant hugging and pushing food at him until he was ready to explode, the woman gleefully using his manners against him knowing he wouldn't outright refuse. He had only ever admitted to Harry that he didn't exactly hate the show of affection. Especially considering he expected to be treated with only the merest civility or politeness when he had first gotten with Harry.

Ron nods, snorting. "Yeah, she felt right terrible about Ginny stealing Harry from ya. She thought you were adorable," he says with a grimace, showing what _he_ thought of such a thing. He can't help grinning when Draco mimics the grimace, not a fan of being labeled 'adorable', either. Of course, his mum had a thing for strays and he figured only a mum could think a git like Malfoy as adorable. Well... mums and Harry -the daft bugger.

"Oh," Draco says slowly, softly. He glares when Harry pokes him, an 'I told you so' look on his face. "Don't smirk, it doesn't suit you," he mutters, gently smacking the back of Harry's head. "Right, well, if she can refrain from choking me with her... hugs, I think she's quite nice as well."

Ron gives a non-committal shrug, unwilling to make such promises. His mum is a hugger, even prats like Malfoy, and he knows better than to think the blonde won't be hugged until he was bruised when his mum finds out. "Well, still," he says and stands. "I just wanted to stick behind, make you promise you won't avoid us all because of this."

"I won't."

Ron narrows his eyes and studies Harry closely. He inclines his head, satisfied to see Harry is telling the truth. He's relieved, of course, but also quite happy. His mum would have been beside herself if everything that happened had caused Harry to distance himself from the Weasleys. He certainly wouldn't blame him. He shook his head, feeling bemused. "Good. Mum said she'll see you on Sunday then." He doesn't make a question and he's not all that surprised to see Harry's shoulders relax a bit. He claps Harry on the shoulder, grinning widely. "I'm pretty sure we're having pot roast."

"And those little potatoes?" Harry immediately asks, holding his thumb and index finger about an inch apart. He loves those things and has yet to be able to duplicate Mrs. Weasley's recipe. He's still put out she refuses to share it with him, probably fearing she'd never see him again if he could master his favorite dish on his own. Ron nods and he can't help pumping his fist a little in victorious excitement.

Draco watches the exchange, a small smile on his face. He's glad Harry's not killing himself with guilt and he's rather grateful to Weasel for offering both a distraction and reassurance. He blinks when he realizes both men are staring at him, matching amused expressions on their faces. "Hm?"

"I said; you're to come as well, Malfoy," Ron says, smirking when Draco's eyes widen a fraction and his lips part ever-so-slightly. For Malfoy, it's the equivalent of gaping stupidly and his eyes bugging out. "But do prepare yourself for hugging and lots of back slapping," he says, sounding a little apologetic. His dad had taken to the Slytherin too, once it became obvious how little like Lucius Draco is. (And it mostly helped that Draco had gifted Arthur the secret of his own Muggle collection; the pair sneaking off a few times to admire it.) He fully expected his dad to offer lots of reassuring back slaps and Muggle liquor.

Draco nods slowly. Right. Of course. He looks at Harry and feels any sort of refusal melt at the warm, expectantly hopeful look on his face. How unfair is that, being manipulated by a sappy Gryffindor? "Right. Yes. Thank you," he manages to say after a few moments. He jumps a bit when he's suddenly hugged from the side and just wraps an arm around Harry. He grins when Ron rolls his eyes, a tiny smile on his face even as he looks a bit put out. "Dinner's at six, yeah?"

"Yep," Ron nods. He stares at the couple for a moment, oddly relieved to see them together again. It had been a bit weird seeing Harry with Gin, even if he hadn't objected. He feels another wash of guilt, pissed at himself (and nearly his entire family) for not realizing how off everything was. Or for so long. He shakes his shoulders a bit, trying to rid himself of the feeling. Things are set to rights now and that's what's important. He extends his hand, giving both wizards a firm shake before he heads towards the door.

Harry hurries to follow, needing a last word in private. Once they are at the door, he steps closer and drops his voice just below a whisper. "You're mum and dad won't mind Draco coming?" he asks nervously. He probably won't end up going, little potatoes or not, if Draco isn't going to be welcome. He can't risk that sort of thing again. Not that any of the other Weasleys would do the same as Ginevra had, but... just, if they aren't going to go somewhere together, he's not interested. He feels a bit clingy at the notion, but he can't shake it. For now...

"Of course," Ron answers just as quietly. He squeezes Harry's shoulder, leaving his hand there for a moment. "Mum will be beside herself and dad... well, he'll probably bring out that Tek... Tork... that wormy Muggle liquor for the special occasion," he says, giving up trying to prounouce the Muggle liquor his dad and Malfoy seemed to share a fondness for. He loved watching the two down little glasses of the stuff since they got a bit giggly after the third one.

Harry beams a smile at Ron and rushes forward to hug him tightly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Ron says, his voice muffled by Harry and maybe some emotion. He does the 'let go now' double pat and grins when Harry hurriedly backs again, scrubbing at his cheeks. "Sunday," he repeats and lets himself out.

Harry stares at the closed door, letting out a long exhale of relief. He doesn't start when arms circle his waist, merely turns his face into Draco's neck and just relaxes in Draco's comforting hold.

..:|:..

_"And you see!" Arthur slurs, gesturing wildly with his half-full shot glass. A good portion of the Tequila slops over the side to splash his pants but he doesn't notice._

_Draco nods vigorously. "I do!" he cries gleefully, dissolving into a fit of giggles. This is only his third time at the Weasley's. It's been torture up until Mr. Weasley -uh... Arthur asked him if he wanted to try an new sort of drink. He thought it would be a new sort of Elf Wine. Or maybe a nice Veela-made port. He hadn't expected a _Muggle_ liquor and had nearly sneered and pushed the glass off of the table. He paused, finger outstretched and pressed against the glass, when the image of Harry's disappointed face flitted through his mind. He cursed softly and drank the shot-glass' contents merely to say he had tried. That had been about 10 minutes and three drinks ago. Now... Well, now he's completely off his tits. And giggling. With Arthur Weasley. In a tiny, too-warm shed.  
_

_He goes into another burst of giggles at the thought of 'tits'; funny things, them -all squishy and round. He wrinkled his face up in mild disgust. Suddenly he's on his back, staring up at a bemused Harry. His face breaks into a wide smile; seeing Harry always makes his heart smile. "Harry," he says, his voice full of awe and affection. When did Harry get on the ceiling? He giggles again, wondering if Harry had a sticking charm on his bum. That would be terrible, he realizes and his giggles dry up. He likes Harry's bum, a lot, and it would be horrible if it's inaccessible._

_"Draco," Harry says softly, smiling despite his earlier irritation. He had been annoyed (verging on pissed off) when he couldn't find Draco _and_ that no one had seen him for nearly 15 minutes. He went off looking for his blonde, half-convinced Draco had just up and left until he heard the distinct sound of giggling from one of Arthur's 'Muggle shed's. The door took a bit to open and a completely sloshed Draco came tumbling out with the opened door. The git had been leaning on it. "What are you doing?"_

_It's quite obvious what Draco is doing; drinking Muggle liquor with Arthur Weasley. A flush of warmth goes through him at the notion that his boyfriend is making an effort to get along with the Weasleys._

_"'M drinkin' wit' Art'r, Harry," Draco says carefully, giving his Harry a beatific smile when he remembers to say 'Arthur' and not 'Mr. Weasley'. He's beginning to wondering if he's a bit drunk when there are two, slightly fuzzy, Harrys now smiling at him. He coos and reaches up, making grabby hands at one of the Harrys. He loves it when Harry gives him that look -like there are little cartoon hearts in his beautiful green eyes. "C'mere," he whispers loudly._

_Harry gives Draco an odd look, but bends at the waist and lowers himself to Draco's imploringly wiggling fingers. He squeaks when he's roughly grabbed and kissed. It's a bit sloppy, as well as upside down, but nice nonetheless because Draco is making happy little humming sounds in the back of his throat. Harry pulls back a little and manages to get far enough way from Draco's grip to set himself the proper way over his drunk Slytherin. "Just how drunk are you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow._

_Draco looks completely smashed. His cheeks are pink from the liquor and his hair is all mussed up, sticking up in odd spots. It's quite an adorably endearing sight, really. Draco will be utterly mortified later, of course._

_"'M not," Draco immediate disagrees. He knows he is but it's undignified to be caught in such a state. Even by his Harry. He giggles again and pulls Harry flush against his body, their chests and hips tightly pressed together. "You're sexy," he leans up just enough to whisper loudly in Harry's ear and nip at his neck. Harry's neck is sexy, too. And his arms. And his legs. And his bum -especially his bum. His hands travel to each spot, squeezing and fondling as he does so. "Oh, an' your cock," he says, almost reverently, his hand sliding around from Harry's bum to cup his crotch firmly. He grins wickedly when he feels movement against his palm.  
_

_Harry jumps a bit, his eyes darting up to see Arthur slumped in his chair, snoring softly. Thank Merlin for small favors. He still has no interest in being groped in front of Mr. Weasley, even if the older man isn't conscious to witness it. Anyone could wander back towards the shed, too. "Yes, thank you love," he says soothingly, pulling Draco's hands away. "We've an audience," he reminds the blonde when hands are back on his bum, squeezing and trying to work down the back of his jeans. Draco isn't an 'open affection' sort of person and he thought the reminder would have his blonde remembering himself and stop._

_"So?" Draco murmurs, leaning up to mouth and nip at Harry's neck and shoulder. "Mmm," he hums, licking along the skin. Harry tastes all tangy and sweet. How does he do that? "Is it a potion?" he murmurs, blissfully unaware he's asked aloud. He buries his face back in Harry's neck, using the hands he's got firmly on Harry's perfect bum to push their hips together. He sighs happily, shifts his thighs to either side of Harry's and starts to wiggle and roll his hips._

_Harry tries to wriggle out of Draco's hold, but only manages in making Draco hum and moan softly in pleasure as the friction makes his horny little Slytherin hold on that much tighter. "Draco. We're on the floor," he says breathlessly. He's probably not going to be able to be rational for long -even drunk, Draco know how to touch him _just so_ to get him incoherent. He needs to get them upright and soon; he's not going to be able to carry Draco if he passes out either from over indulging or because he's finally brought himself off._

_"So?" Draco mutters petulantly. Why isn't Harry doing anything? "Stop bein' so mean, Harry," he whines softly, angling his head so he can kiss and nip at Harry's neck again. "Gimme your lips," he demands, using a hand to turn Harry's face towards him. He crashes his lips to Harry's, his coordination a bit off so it's messy and a little misaligned but it's still nice. He blinks when he's suddenly bereft of Harry's mouth and body pressed wonderfully to him. "Wha?"_

_Harry snorts and gently lifts Draco by the front of his shirt. He's glad his boyfriend is still conscious enough for the featherweight charm to work. He works Draco upright and kisses the tip of his nose. "You're pissed love. You'd kill me if I let you continue," he says, sounding amused but sad to have had to stop, too. He pulls Draco close, sighing softly when Horny Draco turns into Mushy Draco in seconds. He smiles when he's caressed with clumsy but loving strokes and there are soft words of love and affection being whispered in his ear._

_"Thank you, love," Draco whispers, his voice finally quiet in a proper whisper. He feels tears prick at his eyes; Harry is so sweet, giving up an orgasm so he wouldn't embarrass himself. "You're too good for me," he confesses, clinging to Harry tightly, afraid Harry will agree and leave him in that tiny shed. Harry doesn't, of course, and he's so relieved he has to give his Harry another kiss. It's less sloppy, he actually gets Harry's lips aligned with his just right. He doesn't rush or make it sexy, he just wants to try to shove all his love and adoration in that kiss. He touches the side of Harry's face tenderly with one hand and cups his hip with the other._

_Harry pulls away reluctantly, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist so his blonde doesn't think he's being rejected. Any more of those kisses and they'd end up forgetting Arthur completely and defiling the little shed. "I'm just right for you," he says quietly. He chuckles softly when Draco makes a strange sound and wraps himself tightly around Harry's chest. "C'mon, let's go home, yeah?" He feels Draco nod and he sends a quick Patronus, giving his apologies and making sure no one worries about where they are. _

..:|:..

After long moments spent staring off, but standing still, Draco moves and gently pulls Harry back into the sitting room. He flops into the larger chair, easing Harry down with him. They're quiet for long moments, their thoughts probably quite similar. In some ways, it feels like there hasn't been a nearly three-year gap in their relationship. In others, it feels like they're starting over. He's oddly comforted and calm about it all, though. He nuzzles his nose against Harry's neck. "We're OK?" he asks quietly, wondering what Harry's thinking.

He leans back enough to watch the emotions flit across Harry's face. As usual, he's grateful Harry is so easy to read; he's rarely kept out of the other man's thought processes and true feelings.

"We will be," Harry finally says. He feels Draco huff out a soft laugh and nod; whether in agreement or acceptance, he's not sure. But he's glad for either, relieved Draco isn't upset or demanding more. He settles back against Draco's chest and just relaxes. Tomorrow is Sunday and he's excited and scared to go to the Weasley's. As if reading his thoughts, he feels Draco's arms tighten in a comforting squeeze.

He smiles and squeezes back. He'll have Draco there with him and he's extremely grateful for that.


End file.
